


Plucked Petals

by Cowboy_Sneep_Dip



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Bathing/Washing, F/F, Fire Emblem: Awakening Spoilers, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, Lesbian Farming, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Teasing, Threesome - F/F/F, Trans Female Character, no its like. a farm. run by lesbians.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 06:10:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17677937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip/pseuds/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip
Summary: After the war, after the politics and fighting, Robin, Cordelia, and Sumia settle down into their new lives. Lives of peace, quiet, and comfort together. In a small farm of the Ylissean border, the three women make their home into something full of light and hope - but not a life devoid of mischief.





	Plucked Petals

**Author's Note:**

> Heya folks! I feel like I haven't posted in awhile ;-;
> 
> Anyway, this is a commission for @I_eat_lazers! Thanks again for commissioning me! <3 <3 <3

Robin stirs her tea slowly, watching swirls of steam drift up from the mug. She sighs, taps the spoon against it, and sets it down. She is slow, methodical in the way she picks up her pen and dips it into her inkwell. She unfolds a sheet of paper and stares at the field of blank, snowy white.

Where does she even begin?

She touches the tip of her pen to the paper and her study fills with the scratching of ink on parchment. The smell of ink is soothing to her, something about it making her feel calm and relaxed. It’s like incense, the smell specifically cultivated in her study - ink and worn parchment, old books, dust, and sunlight filtering through the window, casting bars of yellowing light across the hardwood floor.

They had decided to make the top floor of the farmhouse into a study, and it had only been a matter of time before it was filled floor-to-ceiling with tomes and calligrapher’s tools and bookbinding supplies. The path from the door to desk is the only open floor in the room, the rest covered with a smattering of the tools and product of her craft.

She doesn’t read tactics books, anymore.

She sets her pen in the inkwell and folds her arms on the desk, slumping lazily and letting her eyes drift to the window.

Beyond the pane of glass, it’s a warm autumn afternoon. She can see their property, rolling hills and fenced paddocks stretching out to the orange forests and then, eventually, the mountains beyond. They had been meaning to visit the mountains for the longest time - Cordelia insisted that there was a village nestled in the mountains that made the _best_ bread. She claimed the altitude made it fluffier, but Robin was doubtful. She smiles and cracks the window, letting in a slow breeze.

It smells like harvest outside - like dead leaves and hay bales, no doubt. Even now, they’ve been seeing more and more carts on the road, farmers taking their goods to the markets in Ylisstol.

Slumping on the desk makes Robin’s back ache, so she sits up again, wipes her sheet of parchment, and slips it back inside the desk. There would be time for writing later, and it’s so very hard to force the words if they aren’t coming easily. Her memory has seemed patchy, of late, and it frustrates her to no end when she leaves things around the house. Sumia’s exercises have helped.

She begins tidying her office, picking up books with cracked spines and dusty jackets and organizing them on her shelves, gently tucking them into the places they belong. Her finger lingers on the spine of a tome she has not picked up for some time. She lets her hand drift over the gold filigree on its spine - _Thoron_. She smiles wryly and slots a novel about pirates next to it.

The war feels so far off, almost lost in the fog of memory. She can’t remember much of the very end. She remembers Valm, and she remembers returning to Plegia, but she doesn’t mind. She has her friends and her family, and that is all that matters. No sense in dwelling on the unpleasantness of the past.

She takes a broom from the corner and begins sweeping. Sumia would scold her about being up on her feet so long, and Cordelia would just do the sweeping herself, so it’s best that she does it on her own. The yellow afternoon light shifts to a deeper golden hue.

The trees that border their fields are already turning a golden brown and dropping their leaves. Winter would come soon, and the snow. Ylisse was cold in the winter, far too cold for Robin’s Plegian bones. Perhaps they could travel - visit somewhere warmer. Anna - Robin wasn’t sure which, and their usual merchant had taken issue when Robin tried dabbing her cloak with ink to mark it - had offered tickets to some vacation paradise. Somewhere with sand, and palm trees, and the sea. It sounded lovely, if only they could pin Cordelia down and get her to stop working for a few months, perhaps a more impossible task than facing down the Fell Dragon.

Robin wipes the glass of a framed picture and smiles. It’s the three of them, some fancy portrait that had been painted on one of their many visits to Ylisstol. Chrom had insisted on it, for some unknown reason. Robin sets in on her desk.

Distant whinnies call her attention out the window again.

Across the fields and paddocks, Sumia, on horseback, does her best to rein in a few stray pegasi. They’re smaller than the workhorses, which makes them easier to keep in line, but there’s also…well, there’s the wings.

A feathered wing juts out and smacks Sumia on the back of her head and she struggles, almost slipping from her saddle.

Robin can’t hear her exasperated voice, but she can judge the content from her gestures and the expression on her face. Robin laughs.

 

-

 

“Ugh, just…oh, no,” Sumia stutters, keeping on tight grip on her horse’s reins and trying to maintain control. “Please, just…” She groans again and gives up, slumping against her saddle. The intervening time had done nothing for her grace, it seemed, and she had still never quite gotten a proper handle on riding workhorses rather than pegasi, but the little winged foals weren’t quite big enough to properly carry riders.

She gives up and fishes a whistle out from under her shirt and blows. The cluster of small pegasi begin kicking up a flutter, flapping their wings and falling into something sort of resembling order. Sumia sits up and puts her hands on her hips.

“That’s better.” She smooths out her riding pants and stands up in the saddle. “Listen up, ladies! If you’re going to be fit for service to the Exalt, you need to be obedient! You need to be reasonable!”

One of the pegasi whinnies and another snorts. Sumia frowns. They may be smaller than horses, but they’re smarter, too, and it’s only Sumia’s Naga-given gift of animal friendship that lets her have any control over them at all. She rides her horse in a loose circle, trying to cajole them forward.

Their wings would soon be big enough to carry them skyward, and then the real trouble would begin. She was not stranger to raising pegasi - her own mount had been a foal once, after all, but it never did get easier. Once one pegasus gets stuck in a tree, that’s the fear that sticks with you every time they start flying. She lets the pegasi wander and graze while she takes her horse around the paddock to survey the other parts of the farm.

She runs through the checklist in her head as hooves pound beneath her feet. The pegasi would graze for a few more hours, and then she’d need to round them up. With any luck, that would give her enough time to get back to the barn and clean out the stalls - barring any unfortunate accidents.

A shadow crosses her path and she yanks back on the reins, pulling up and tugging her horse into a slow trot as she looks for the source.

For a moment, she’s filled with fear - some of the pegasi were technically big enough to fly already, and she did _not_ need wayward and uncontrolled hooves flying at her face as a pony tries following her.

She looks up, cupping a hand around her eyes to shield the slowly sinking sun, and a flutter of white feathers cascades around her. There’s another whinney and the pounding of hooves on dirt - steps far too heavy for any of her foals. Which could only mean -

“Cordelia!” Sumia smiles brightly, tugging her reins and turning towards the pegasus. She waves one free hand at the flash of red that passes. Cordelia’s pegasus flaps its mighty wings, sending waves of wind outwards as it skitters and skips across the ground like a stone across water. Cordelia pulls back on the reins and tugs her mount into a tight u-turn, circling around and decelerating from a speedy descent. Her pegasus drops onto the grass at a gallop, its wings curling back to create enough drag to decelerate properly.

A crimson and white flash gallops past Sumia, who doesn’t waste a single second kicking her horse into gear. She takes off at a gallop, leaning forward to try and match speeds with Cordelia. From behind her, she can see the silver and gold trim of her armor sparkling in the late afternoon sun. Her hair ripples behind her like scarlet trails in the wind and a broad smile is plastered on her face. She tilts her head to the side and beams at Sumia.

Even her mount is almost blinding, its barding shining a shimmering silver and blue in the bright sky. Sumia pulls her own mount alongside Cordelia, and suddenly they’re neck-and-neck, thundering hooves and armor glinting in the sun.

Sumia beams. It’s a strange feeling - it’s familiar o be riding alongside each other, but to see Cordelia in her ceremonial armor - the silver and red of a Falcon Knight captain - and then to see her own clothes - plain brown breeches and riding boots, a flowy off-white tunic; they couldn’t be more different.

“Whoah, there,” Cordelia says at last, pulling up on the reins and tugging her pegasus into a slow trot, and then to a half.

Sumia tugs her own reins, and her mount is slower to obey, unused to the strict military training regiment of the professional, employed horses. She gallops a half-circle around Cordelia’s pegasus before trotting to a stop.

Cordelia steps down from her mount and barely plants her boots in the dirt before Sumia is off her own horse, throwing her arms around her and pulling her down into a kiss. Cordelia smiles broadly, the corners of her eyes lifting with joy as she bends down and kisses Sumia again before wrapping her arms around her and scooping her up into an embrace.

“Welcome home!” Sumia smiled broadly, her words finally stuttered out after continuous muting by a shower of kisses. Cordelia sets her back down and kisses the top of her head again.

“Hello, love,” she smiles, taking a step back.

“You’re in early!” Sumia says. She turns her attention from Cordelia and back towards her horse, checking the reins. “I thought for sure you wouldn’t make it in time for dinner.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Cordelia straightens her armor, smoothing the wrinkled hem of her skirt. She’s a little disheveled from her flight, so she takes the time to brush tangles from her hair and readjust her wing-shaped hairclips.

Sumia giggles. Cordelia, always so concerned about looking pristine.

Cordelia’s gaze sweeps across the paddocks and back towards the farmhouse. “Is Robin well?”

“She’s fine,” Sumia says, sticking her riding boot in a stirrup and hauling herself up. “She said she was going to try to get some writing done before cooking dinner.”

Cordelia lets out a laugh. “She never does slow down, does she.”

“Nope, not yet,” Sumia tugs the reins and brings her horse around. “I still need to finish up out here, but go inside! Go get cleaned up and rest, I’m sure you must be exhausted from your journey.

“It wasn’t too bad,” Cordelia protests, climbing back onto her pegasus. “The least I can do is help you with the rest of your chores.

Sumia gawks. “No! None of that, missus!” She brings her horse alongside Cordelia and playfully swipes out at her. “Go, rest.”

“You sure you don’t need any help?”

Sumia sighs, but it’s a playful sort, a feigned exasperation at Cordelia’s insistence on being useful from the very moment she arrives home. She shakes her head, and her curls of light brown hair shift in the wind. “If you need something to do, go check on Robin.”

 

-

 

Dinner at the farmhouse is a sort of quiet affair - it usually is, all things considered. Order is maintained in the kitchen by keeping Sumia strictly outside of the danger zone - away from the stove, the hot pans and bubbling pots and any sort of thing that would inevitably end up on the floor at best and on exposed flesh at worst. Robin insists that Cordelia rests as she takes care of the cooking for the three of them. It’s something Plegian, tonight - Robin doesn’t know any of the recipes of her homeland, but she’s been poring over books and studying well enough to understand the basics. She doesn’t know the name of the dish, at least not the name in Ylissean, but it’s a spicy sauce served over rice - something rich, hearty and warm for her two hardworking lovers.

Cordelia speaks of her time in Ylisstol, training the new recruits. It’s a batch of fresh fliers, some trained on horses, some trained as infantry, so her hands are more than full. Few had been on a pegasi at all, and even fewer had experience riding alone. It was hard word, full of riding and sparring and training, but Cordelia enjoyed her job. At Robin’s insistence, she had stepped down from the job of Commander to be a full-time instructor instead. She didn’t see combat anymore, even though much of the Ylissean army was charged with freeing Plegia and the edges of Ferox from the bandit scourge that had risen up in the wake of the Fell Dragon War.

But Cordelia, like her wives, lives a peaceful life, even if the bruises that poke out from the edges of her tunic betray her exuberance.

Robin talks of her own work - writing what she can recall of the information given to her as a vessel of Grima. She doesn’t remember much, but she remembers bits and pieces that fit together with the tomes of lore she borrows from Ylisstol’s grand libraries. She writes letters, too. To all of their friends, to those at the castle and those even further out - in Ferox, Chon’sin, even the furthest reachest of Valm.

And Sumia, of course, talks of tending to the horses. She updates Cordelia on the condition of the barn, the animals, the paddocks and fields, filling her in with what she’s missed since she left all that time ago.

Cordelia smiles as Sumia and Robin talk about their passions and interests. She had missed this - she had missed _them_ , their smiles and soft voices, the curls of Sumia’s hair and the soft scent of flowers that followed her everywhere she went, Robin’s playful smile and serious eyes still wrinkled at the corners by laughter. She missed behind home.

 

-

 

Cordelia slides into the tub with an audible sigh, the steam from the water already beading sweat on her brow. She closes her eyes and allows herself to sink into the warm water, allowing herself to drink in the warmth and pleasure of rest and relaxation. She sniffs suspiciously - Robin must have added _something_ to it, something with the fragrance of flower petals and citrus. She swirls a lazy hand through the water and watches the bubbles swirl around her fingers. She leans back, twisting her neck to drape her hair into the water. She hears stirring beyond the bathroom door.

She reaches for the soap with one hand, letting the other sink to the bottom of the tub and rest on her knee. Her legs are sore, and her muscles ache, and even the warmth of the water can’t rid her body of the fatigue of her time on the road. She had left the training fields and came straight home from practicing with the new recruits, and it showed. She touches a ginger finger to the inside of her thigh and winces. A bruise is forming, no doubt one that will be a dark purple by the following morning.

Before she can pick up the soap, a slender hand catches hers and gently pushes it away.

“Just relax, love.”

Cordelia smiles and shifts in the bath. “I can clean myself, you know.”

“Yes, but you deserve to rest.” Robin presses her lips into the crown of Cordelia’s head, the smile of her lips changing the shape of the gesture into something playful, chaste. She holds the bar of soap lightly.

“You’re going to get your cloak wet.”

“I rolled up the sleeves,” Robin says, simply, and she knees by the tub and begins combing through Cordelia’s long hair with her fingers. “Besides, a little wetness never hurt anyone.”

Cordelia giggles. “Don’t let Sumia catch you saying things like that.”

Robin’s face lights scarlet in the dim half-light and she stammers. “I-uh-wh-”

Cordelia laughs and sinks under the water. “I kid,” she says surfacing again. She rubs her hands across her temples, brushing her now-soaked hair back and letting it drape down the curve of her spine. She sits forward to allow Robin to do her work.

Robin does so with tenderness and delicacy, scrubbing the dirt and salt and sweat from Cordelia’s long, scarlet locks. She finds herself staring as she does - watching the muscles in Cordelia’s back as she shifts, watching them tense as she adjusts. Cordelia has a lovely back - toned and muscular, and only somewhat marred by the day’s training. Wooden blades still left welts.

Robin presses a finger delicately into an inorganically rectangular bruise. “Someone get you good?”

Cordelia laughs. “One of the new recruits,” she admits.

Robin refrains from making a disparaging remark, but she’s surprised - the perfect Cordelia almost never took hits.

“You must be very proud of her.”

Cordelia nods. “I am. She shows much promise. I recommended that she continue sparring with the cavaliers even while the Falcon Knights are on leave. Ah!” she winces and shifts forwards, sloshing the sides of the tub with warm, soapy water.

“Sorry,” Robin says hastily, under her breath. She didn’t even realize her fingers were pressing into Cordelia’s spine. She refocuses, trying not to let her attention linger on her bare, slick shoulders.

“It’s okay,” Cordelia reassures her.

“Here, sit up,” Robin pushes her lightly, taking care not to touch her bruises. She gathers a bundle of Cordelia’s hair and drapes it over her shoulder, giving her access to her bare back.

Cordelia hisses as a soapy washcloth presses into her skin.

“Sorry,” Robin says again, working delicately, slowly. “I’m trying to be careful.” She stands up. “I’m going to get some ointment to put on them when you dry off.

Cordelia watches her move around the bathroom and smirks. Robin is wearing her cloak, the sleeves rolled up, as she had said, but she had failed to indicate that she was wearing nothing underneath but her underclothes. Cordelia coughs, almost swallowing a mouthful of soapy bathwater.

Robin stands on her tiptoes to reach a top shelf that contains a variety of jars and vials of medicinal compounds and herbs, and Cordelia watches her bare feet tense on the tile.

“Careful, love,” she says quietly.

“I can watch out for myself,” Robin says, promptly slipping and almost dunking herself in the tub. Cordelia laughs and shifts backwards.

“Is our dear Sumia rubbing off on you?”

Robin shoots her a feigned glare before sighing with resignation. “No, no.”

“Come,” Cordelia says, making room in the tub. “There’s room for one more.”

Robin shakes her head. “This is about you, dear. I’m not going to let you spend the time you’re meant to be relaxing by pampering _me_.”

Cordelia reaches out and grasps Robin’s sleeve, tugging lightly. “Come on, off with it. You deserve relaxation just as much as I.”

Robin sighs, assenting and stripping out of her robe. In just her smallclothes, she looks...frail, Cordelia thinks. A little thin, overworked. She bends over to peel off her underclothes and Cordelia smiles softly.

“You’re beautiful, you know.”

“I’ve heard,” Robin says, shimmying out of her thin top.

She climbs into the tub slowly, nestling herself between Cordelia’s legs, curling up below the hot water. It feels marvelous, she admits to herself. She is not covered in the sweat and dirt of physical exertion, but the ink and dust on her skin is a category all its own. The tenseness in her muscles melt in the warmth of Cordelia’s embrace.

Cordelia’s lips brush her ear. “A bath is always warmer with two.”

Robin nods and leans back into Cordelia’s chest, sighing deeply. There was always sense in Cordelia’s words, though it was strange to be chastised by _her_ for working too hard. She laves an open palm of water over her chest and closes her eyes. Cordelia’s breath is warm on her back, and her arms are tight around her stomach, and Robin’s head rests back on her shoulder, sleep threatening to overtake her.

Cordelia’s long, slender fingers dance along Robin’s stomach and she squirms.

“Hey,” she says softly. “Ticklish.”

“I know,” Cordelia’s smile is evident in the tone of her voice and she presses a flat palm to Robin’s stomach, pulling her into a tighter embrace.

“So much for me taking care of you,” Robin sighs. “Such is life married to Cordelia, I suppose.”

“You already washed me,” Cordelia presses her lips into the back of Robin’s neck. “What more could I ask for?”

Robin shifts onto her stomach and blinks sleepily at Cordelia. “Mm...I suppose I could give you a massage.”

“Not if you fall asleep first,” Cordelia says, pressing her own fingers into the ridges of Robin’s spine. She gently rubs the dark skin and kisses her forehead.

“No, I can…” Robin pushes herself up. “I can do it. Turn around.”

Cordelia smiles her assent and does as commanded, rotating in the bath and shifting their positions until she is the one between Robin’s legs. “Very well.”

Robin’s fingers are worn but deft, pressing into the knots of taut muscle and bruised flesh with a delicate, practiced skillfulness. She presses a knuckle into the ridges of Cordelia’s spine and the latter lets out an audible groan of pleasure, drawing a giggle from Robin’s lips.

“So maybe you _did_ need a massage,” she smiles, pressing a kiss into the curve of Cordelia’s shoulders. She shifts her hands lower, wrapping her fingers around Cordelia’s sides, kneading her muscles with her thumb. Cordelia writhes in her grip, squirming in the warm scented water. “R-Robin,” she breathes.

Robin smiles playfully and kisses her neck again, dropping her hands still lower, until her fingers brush the curve of her hips. “Yes, my dear Cordelia?”

Cordelia exhales slowly, melting under Robin’s teasing touches fingers. “R-Robin…”

Robin shifts her hands up again, smirking behind Cordelia’s back, watching her writhe and groan. Gods, she really must have needed some unwinding.

“S-Sumia…?” Cordelia says, her question cut off by another sigh of pleasure as Robin rubs the back of her neck.

“Doing the dishes.” Robin pushes her forward lightly, again, and Cordelia buckles under her touch, all of her knightly resolve melting away in a haze of fragrant bathsoap and soft, delicate touches. “I suppose I could fetch her if you thought the tub could fit three…”

Cordelia laughs, and her voice is clear and musical. “We tried that, remember? Got water everywhere, flooded half the bathroom?”

Robin nods and kisses her shoulder blade. “I suppose we could take turns.”

“Or,” Cordelia said, tilting her head back to catch Robin’s lips. “We could dry off and see if she needs help cleaning up dinner.”

Robin chuckles softly and returns the kiss. Cordelia’s lips are dry and rough, chapped from the cold wind on her flight home, no doubt, but she tastes sweet and familiar. The soft cadence of her breath is comforting. Robin kisses her again, glad that she’s home.

“She said that you should relax.”

“And I’m saying you should relax,” Cordelia grips the rim of the tub and pulls herself up.

Robin blinks and stares at the soapy water, trying not to fixate on the backside sliding out of the tub in front of her face. She allows Cordelia to take her hand and pull her upright, and the two stand dripping on the tile, helping each other towel off. Cordelia makes a show of stretching, working out the stiffness in her muscles and the cricks in her joints, and Robin coughs loudly and blushes when she bands to touch her toes.

“It’d do you good to stretch more, you know,” Cordelia teases, standing upright and taking a towel from the hook. She wraps it around herself.

“It’s not the stretches, so much as the…” Robin gestures at Cordelia’s body, and the latter laughs and tugs her into a gentle embrace.

“The steam and water helps loosen the joins and limber you up,” she says, brushing her lips across Robin’s cheek.

“Even when bathing, you can’t stop thinking about it, huh,” Robin says, leaning into the crook of her shoulder. “Optimizing, training, health.”

“Sorry, love,” Cordelia wraps her arms around Robin’s soft, damp skin. “It’s a habit.”

Robin’s hair is damp on her skin - when it’s wet, it looks less bright, white, and feathery, and instead matts against her skin in a darker off-white, almost silver in places. Cordelia presses her lips into Robin’s hair and wraps a towel around her.

Robin leans into her embrace and shifts to press her lips into Cordelia’s. The kiss is soft, gentle, tinged with the heat of the bath steam, reverberating across a thread of subdued desire. Robin pulls back slightly, just enough to lift her hand and cup Cordelia’s chin. She tugs her back into a kiss, this time with more urgency, more drive. Cordelia shifts against her, their bodies separated by little but a thin, damp towel. Through it, Robin can feel the curve of Cordelia’s body, the shape of her hips, her breasts, the arch of her spine as the press against each other.

Cordelia deepens her kiss, grasping at the cool damp of Robin’s smooth skin. A tongue brushes her lips and she pulls back, letting her fingertips linger on Robin.

“Excited?” Robin teases, her voice low and breathy against Cordelia’ collar.

Cordelia nods, a blush creeping into her cheeks. She was never quite as good as Robin at this part. The words that fill the space between the lips and soft fingers. “Should…” she stifled an embarrassed cough. “S-Sumia, I mean…”

Robin sinks her teeth into Cordelia’s skin and a gasp come out. Cordelia wraps her arms around Robin tighter, instinctively pulling her closer.

“I think,” Robin grins playfully, “we could certainly pay for taking such good care of the farm while you were away.”

“Mmhm,” Cordelia hums, closing her eyes. “Repay her?”

Robin kisses her again, tilting her head so that her lips connect with the bottom of Cordelia’s jaw.

“I…” Cordelia swallows. “I think that would be fun.”

Robin turns to leave but as she does, she lets her hand drape loosely down Cordelia’s torso, trailing down her stomach, and lower, leaving Cordelia with an ache between her legs.

“If you can wait that long,” Robin teases.

Cordelia whimpers. “T..The bedroom, then?”

“See you in a few.” Robin steps out the door and winks.

 

-

 

Sumia stands at the sink, scrubbing a pan, scowling. She’s not very good at the dishes, even if she tries. She lets the pan clatter to the basin with a splash. Hmph.

She rinses her hands and dries them on a hand-towel. She can leave the pan to soak.

Hand wrap around her waist, making her jump. She looks down in surprise at the slender brown arm encircling her.

“Oh! Hello, Robi-” Before she can even speak Robin’s name, lips press to the back of her neck and she freezes, surprised.

Robin shifts, nuzzling Sumia to part her hair and expose the nape of her neck. She kisses her again before shifting lower, to the joint of her shoulder and neck, and then she bites.

Sumia yelps in surprise. “R-Robin-ah,” she stutters out. Her breath catches in her chest.

“Hello, love,” Robin says in her ear, her lips close enough to cause goosebumps to raise along her flesh.

Sumia quivers in her gasp, letting her hands drop to Robin’s. “I t-thought you were helping Cordelia in the bath…”

“Yes, and now she’s upstairs waiting for us.”

“W-waiting?” Sumia repeats, staring above the sink. There’s a window set into the kitchen wall, and she occupies herself with gazing at the distant treeline. “Waiting?” she says again.

“Mmhm,” Robin drifts her hands along Sumia’s tunic. Beneath it, she can feel the shape of her body - the softness of her stomach, the swell of her breasts, and Sumia’s blush deepens to a crimson to match Cordelia’s hair. “You know. On the bed.”

“On. The bed.” Sumia stares at Robin’s wandering hands, and her own, still soapy and wet. Robin unties the apron around Sumia’ waist and tugs it lightly over her neck.

“Naked. Dripping wet,” Robin teases, drawing out each syllable. She brushes her lips along the shell of Sumia’s ear as she speaks, and Sumia practically melts in her grasp, falling backwards into Robin’s arms.

“But-but the dishes…” Sumia protests weakly.

“They can wait,” Robin finally spins Sumia and tugs her into an embrace.

“Y-you’re nake-OOMPH!” Sumia’ exclamation is cut off by Robin’s lips intersecting hers, her arms catching her as she nearly faints back against the sink. She’s tired from a long, hard day of work and she had _not_ been expecting _any_ naked women to be pulling her into a kiss, and yet one’s tongue was very much in her mouth.

She tilts her head to the side and kisses Robin back, with equal voraciousness, a playful hunger that surprises even Robin. She lifts her arms around Robin’s back and tugs her close, digging her fingers into her bare back, pressing into the curve of her spine.

The shape of a smile forms on Robin’s lips even before they part, and she follows up with another kiss, more playful and chaste, but still bubbling with muted passion. She shifts in Sumia’s grip and leans back. “What say we go to the bedroom?”

Sumia takes Robin’s hand and tugs her out of the kitchen, marching them both up their stair without a second’s hesitation.

Robin laughs as she follows, unsurprised at the result. She wasn’t a sultry person by nature, but she had read Sumia’s...sordid novels. She knew what she liked.

Sumia opens the door to their bedroom and, without looking before she leaps, pulls Robin on top of her and collapses to the bed.

“Ouch!”

Sumia’s eyes widen and she rolls, apologizing profusely as she scrambles off Cordelia’s naked body. “Oh, gosh, I’m s-sorry!”

Robin bursts out laughing and gently nudges Sumia to the side before mounting her. “I think we need to even the playing field, don’t we, Cordy?”

Cordelia smiles and nods, moving her hands to the hem of Sumia’s shirt. “It’s only fair.”

Sumia squirms against the two of them as their hands undress her with what feels like painful slowness - she wants nothing more than to rip off her clothes, but the other two insist on dragging it out - Cordelia’s fingers are wrapped delicately around the bottom of Sumia’s shirt, tugging it upwards as she wriggles against the weight of Robin’s body. Robin’s hands get to work, too, hooking into the waistband of Sumia’ pants and tugging them down.

Sumia closes her eyes and gasps as Cordelia’ hands brush from her stomach to her chest, exposing her chest. Cordelia smiles playfully, halting her undressing to bury her face in Sumia’s chest and the delicate lace of her underwear. She kisses the upper curve of her breasts before finishing the task at hand, tugging the shirt over Sumia’s head.

Robin completes her task with her own characteristic efficiency, slipping Sumia’s pants down around her ankles and then off her feet. “Cute,” she remarks, teasing and soft as she kisses the heat between her thighs. Sumia’s panties, already damp with anticipation, are the same pink lace as her bra. She blushes under their gazes.

Robin moves upward, her lips grazing Sumia’s navel, her abdomen, her breasts, and Robin sinks her teeth into the soft, warm flesh of her breast. Sumia gasps, but her voice is cut off by Cordelia’s lips against hers.

“Mmph!” is all she manages, her flailing hands pinned by Cordelia’s deft motions.

Robin kisses higher, nipping at Sumia’s collarbone, her neck, and finally her lips, her own kiss brushing against Cordelia’s, as they smother Sumia in lips and teeth and firm hands.

Cordelia tugs her backwards and Sumia lets herself collapse into Cordelia’ embrace as Robin’s lips dance across her face. She drops a hand behind her, pressing an open palm to Cordelia’ stomach and then shifting lower, burying her hand in the patch of wiry hair beneath Cordelia’ waist.

Cordelia gasps and shifts against her, reaching down and pushing Sumia’s hand lower, until her slender fingers wrap around Cordelia’s cock. Cordelia moans, closing her eyes and sinking back into the pillows as Sumia shifts to more properly give her attention.

Robin climbs off of Sumia and crawls up the bed towards Cordelia, grasping her shoulders and tugging her down against the bedcovers. “D-down,” she commands, low and breathy. Cordelia nods and obeys, her chest heaving.

Robin, ever the tactician.

She nudges Sumia on top of Cordelia until she’s straddling her, the soft flesh of her legs wrapped around Cordelia’s torso, and Robin hooks her fingers in the back of Sumia’s panties and tugs.

Sumia relents, shifting her legs so Robin can shimmy her underwear down and over her feet before casting them aside. Sumia wastes no time crawling forward and lowering herself onto Cordelia’s face

Cordelia’s tongue presses between her legs and Sumia quivers, rolling her hips and grinding against her mouth. Cordelia arches her back and kisses Sumia, her tongue tracing the damp folds between her legs. Sumia lets out a sigh and braces herself on the back of the bed, grinding herself into Cordelia’s face, moaning as her tongue work its magic.

Behind her, Robin has shifted her attention to Cordelia’s own body, kissing her toned abdominal muscles and drifting her hands down to wrap around Cordelia’s cock. Her moans are muffled by the undulations of Sumia’s body, but her own writhing makes Robin grin with excitement. She drops her head lower, wrapping her lips around the head of Cordelia’s cock and taking her into her mouth. Cordelia twitches, the taste and smell of her filling Robin’s head with a haze of desire. Robin bobs her head up and down, coating her cock with saliva, rolling her tongue over her in delicate, teasing strokes.

Cordelia tilts her head back, withdrawing her lips and tongue just long enough to moan, to reach up and grasp at Sumia’s shoulders and pull her down, desperately, into a wet, sticky kiss. Sumia groaned into her kiss and wrapped her hands around the back of her head, threading her fingers through her bright red hair.

Cordelia gasps, arching her back, rocking her hips against Robin as she sucks her cock. It’s like a fire inside her, a windstorm, a pool of desire and tension rolling in her stomach. She pushes Sumia back lightly and stammers Robin’s name.

“R-Robin,” she mutters, with building urgency. “R-Robin, I’m g-going t-”

Before she can finish, Robin sits up, a malicious, playful grin on her saliva-streaked face. She smiles, crawling forward and digging a hand into Sumia’s scalp to pull her hair and tug her back into a harsh, sloppy kiss. Sumia mutters into her mouth, her chest heaving.

As if spurred on by Robin’s ferocity, Sumia pushes back, tugged by the rapid back-and-forth of Cordelia and Robin’s kisses. Cordelia reaches forward and grasps at Sumia’s breasts, kneading the hot, tender flesh to a chorus of Sumia’s moans.

Robin slips her hand to Sumia’s back and unhooks her bra, letting her breasts free, smothering Cordelia’s face. Cordelia cups her breasts and sinks her teeth into one of Sumia’s nipples, and then the valley between her breasts, and then the other, reveling in Sumia’s squirming moans.

Robin shifts forwards, grinding herself into Cordelia’s cock before finally pushing herself down onto her, groaning as her cock slips inside her. She braces herself by wrapping her arms around Sumia’s torso and holding tight to her, sandwiching her between Cordelia’s lips and her own breasts pressed tight against Sumia’ back.

Sumia moans, grinding her hips against Cordelia’s torso, desperate and aching for any bit of friction against her wet core. She lets out a moan as Cordelia’s tongue rolls across her nipple, and she reaches a hand backwards, tracing down Robin’s stomach and pressing her fingers into her clit as she rocks back and forth on Cordelia’s cock.

Robin presses her lips into Sumia’s ear, her kiss sticky, breathy, and desperate. “S-switch,” she commands in husky tones.

Sumia nods, a whimper dripping from her lips as she regrettably pulls back from Cordelia’s clever tongue.

Cordelia lets out a strained gasp as Robin pulls herself off of her cock  and flops sideways onto the bed, panting and sweating. She crawls forward and yanks Cordelia’s hair, hard, tugging her into a rough kiss before sinking her teeth into her lower lip. Cordelia groans and slips her tongue past Robin’s lips into her mouth, warm and wet and inviting.

Sumia pushes herself down on Cordelia’s cock, bracing her trembling hands by pressing them into Cordelia’s chest, kneading her petite breasts as she fucks her hard, rocking up and down with unrestrained desperation. Her cries aren’t muffled anymore, dissolving into a cacophony of desperate groans and gasps.

Sumia drifts a hand to Robin’s kneeling form and cups her backside, digging her nails into the tender flesh and trailing it down, lower, to the slick wetness between her legs. Surprised, Robin writhes back into the caress of her delicate fingers.

“S-Sumia,” Cordelia gasps, one hand reaching for Robin’s head and the other for Sumia’s scrabbling hands. “Sumia, I’m going to…” she groans again, lurching upwards.

Sumia nods, a dazed smile on her face, an unspoken plea. She closes her eyes and leans back, bucking her hips and letting out a gasping moan as she feels Cordelia’s cock twitch and spasm, finally releasing the pent up energy within her. Sumia feels each spasm ripple through her groin with warm pulses of come, and she slumps forward, sticky and sweaty and quivering in Cordelia’s arms. Robin curls up next to them, burying her face in Cordelia’s chest as well, wrapping a stray arm around Sumia’s soft, trembling form.

Robin wriggles forward, pressing her lips to Sumia’s forehead and then tilting to kiss Cordelia’s cheek. Sumia hums with contentment, her ribcage buzzing, pressed between the two of them. They lie there like that, limbs tangled, hair matted and sweaty, breathing softly, cast in the gold of the evening sun.

“I love you,” Sumia says quietly. “Both of you. So much.”

“I as well,” Cordelia kisses her forehead. “Thank you both for being my home."

Robin hums in quiet agreement, her finger tracing lazy circles along Cordelia’s chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> If you are interested in me writing words for you, send me a DM @lucisevofficial.tumblr.com, or shoot me an email at cowboysneep@gmail.com!


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